We get to laugh on good days but Friday is my good day. Because on Friday, the pain was intense. It got me anxious and depressed, then slowly, it did not matter again, bittersweet.
On Friday, I won the battle, to run the marathon by God's grace. Perhaps your miracle may not come on a Friday, but hold on, there are six other days in the week.
Yours could come too, if only you'll believe and hold on. You'll win your battle too.
Oh God! I'm sure it will take a while to forget the significance of 'Friday' in my life. For the past couple of weeks I've made so much noise about Friday. Written poems and actually idolised Friday.
This is because exactly five Fridays ago, I got my miracle. I woke up at 1.50am thinking it was 3am. I couldn't go back to sleep again. My heart began to race. Although I tried to go back to sleep by just laying in bed and closing my eyes, I could not fall asleep again.
I began to wonder whether it would be the last time I would lay in my bed. Was I still going to be counted amongst the living by evening? Would I still be here by next Friday? Was I going to be a source of pain to my family by breaking their hearts on Friday? God what was going to happen to me today, I wondered but got no answers.
If God had showed me how 'Friday' would end, I would have gone back to sleep that very minute. Unfortunately, although he had assured me I would be safe prior to Friday, I just couldn't fall asleep again. Now I'm wondering, how I could not just fall asleep when I claimed I had surrendered the day to God.
My brother and I arrived at the hospital at 4 am. I went through the process for admission to the recovery ward. I expected my brother to leave once I was allocated a bed and come back later but he assured me he would wait in the car instead. Saddled with a tall prescription to get for me, he left, while I tried to get some rest.
I needed to, so my blood pressure would not go out of the roof. Well, I couldn't. Who sleeps comfortably in a hospital. My friend who's a doctor and had told me countless times to calm down since the previous night, texted me asking me to relax but I responded with "is the hospital a hotel, how do I relax?"
I couldn't believe it, when my brother got back with the IVs and meds that had been prescribed. I was in for a lot of pain, I could tell, it was a whole bag full. Then came 7am, the Anaesthesiologist came around and wanted the list of patients for the day since I did not check into hospital the previous night as I was told by my doctor at my last appointment. He informed me that my name would be struck out from the list for the day.
However, when he phoned my doctor, my doctor insisted that my name could not be removed from the list. They checked my blood pressure, exactly what I expected although I had taken my medication the previous night. It was really high. They made me take another one, quickly to regulate it. My Doctor arrived just then.
"But why didn't you check in last night?"
"Doc, I don't like hospitals. I was anxious, checking in last night would have made me more anxious," I told him.
"What's the anxiety for? You'll be okay. Or would you want us to postpone this? I'll only postpone it if you don't feel ready."
I told him I did not want it postponed. There was somewhere really important I needed to be that day, but I prioritised my health instead, we could not postpone it. He set my cannula. One on the back of my left palm and the other on my right above my wrist on the inner side. This should have been done by the nurses, because of the anxiety I felt, my doctor did it himself while trying to counsel me.
He instructed one of the nurses to fix my catheter. Another nurse looked on instructing the one fixing it. My Doctor however cautioned them to ensure I did not feel too much pain as I was already anxious. New nurse I guess. In the end, my doctor fixed the catheter himself. It felt weird but I was comfortable with him doing the fixing. That was painful but nothing compared to the day's pain. My Doctor reassured me that I would be fine before leaving my bedside.
Fast forward, I opened my eyes to see my siblings standing around my bed. The look on their faces summed it all up. It was past 6pm, I was told. I had just woken up from the worst day of my life. Hours of non-stop pain. The pain of laying on my back in one position for six hours, excruciating pain that I cannot explain but have never ever felt in my life. Yet I fought through with so much strength not of my own but strength from the one who bore all of that pain years ago in order that I may still be in this race called life.
I was not on the other side. This was real. They were talking to me although I could barely talk and I was hurting all over, I was happy to be alive. Inspite of
the pain, being alive just felt so good.
The joy of being alive has superceded any other feeling since that Friday, despite the pain I've felt and the challenging period of recovery.
I'm indebted to him... Dear God, thank you!
#OneDayInApril (Excerpts)
Celebrating my Doctor, S and A, God used them to bless me.
Thank you to my Brother and Sister for all the love they've shown me these couple of weeks: bathing me, feeding me, cleaning my w..... When I think of how you guys could not eat but pray till I came out and the anxiety I put you through, hmm, sorry.
Thanks to Pastor Steve and Pastor Obed: When I could not remember Psalm 91 in there, you put over two hours of your day on hold to intercede for me till I came out, and the sacrifices that went into that day... You'll tell me, that's what Pastors are for, but indeed I don't take your sacrifices for granted.
Some friends are 'quality,' the Mortson sisters.
Thank you to everyone who has sent me Momo, visited, sent me stuff during this period, phoned and prayed with me and for me.
God bless you for the show of love.
